


The Rocking Dead

by AmelieofK



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: JunBobFicFest2020, M/M, Mild Smut, Oneshot, Thriller, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK
Summary: Is it possible to fall in love trying to make a name for your band in a zombie apocalypse & saving the world with rock music, while you're at it? They sure were going to try!
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	The Rocking Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt :  
> Junhoe is in a band with Bobby’s roommate and he has had a crush on him ever since he saw him plays the guitar/piano and heard him sing. And he will be in their place for rehearsal next week. 
> 
> I should have added the crack tag to this. With mild sex scenes towards the end.
> 
> Time Check : 4.13am. This is a fic vomit. Tell me which was really your favourite name for the band.

_Practice Room 809, Daegu University_

They had been there for the last four hours. It was sweltering, because the university would not let them turn on the air-conditioning and even with the windows thrown open, there was barely a breeze.

_How many special people change/How many lives are lived estranged_

_Where were you while we were getting high/Slowly walking down the hall_

_Faster than a cannonball/Where were you while…_

The audio feedback whined and everyone cringed, groaning in unison.

“Fuck.” Junhoe muttered underneath his breath. His blond fringe was plastered to his temple like a helmet. His wrist hung limply over the top of the mic stand as he hunkered down for breath. “This isn’t going to work if we cannot find a lead guitarist. Whoever heard of a rock group without a lead guitarist? FUCK!” Junhoe screamed and the feedback whined again.

“Ya~Koo Junhoe, _kumanhera_.” Donghyuk complained covering his ears with his hands. Chanwoo flipped his sticks and did a ‘ba-dum-tss’ which earned him a glare from Junhoe. He stuck out his tongue in apology. “It’s too hot to focus anyway. I say we take a break. Milkshakes on me?” Donghyuk turned off his bass guitar and sidled it onto the stand just beside the speakers. Junhoe sighed heavily, flapping the front of his shirt fastidiously, trying to create a breeze along his lengthy body.

“I’m lactose-intolerant.” Chanwoo intoned. He had that deadpan expression down pat. It was the perfect facade for a drummer.

“Juice, then.” Donghyuk was the sweetheart. Always smiling, played bass and quite popular with the ladies.

“I’m allergic to fruits.” Chanwoo quipped.

“Well, then, you’re fucked.” Donghyuk surmised, pulling Junhoe away from the mic. Donghyuk locked the room, flipping the keys before putting it into the pockets of his jeans. He got himself and Junhoe chocolate milkshakes and a glass of sky juice for Mister ‘I’m-Allergic-To-Everything’. “What do you guys think about this whole ‘zombie’ news that’s been coming out from stateside?” Donghyuk asked as they headed down to quiet corner at the quadrangle. There were less students lately, but everyone seem to be looking forward to the preliminary auditions to the university’s Rock Out! Festival, which was slated to be held end of this month. The winning band would apparently walked away with twenty thousand dollars in cash prizes, a lot of dollars for any varsity students with a hefty student loan.

“It’s fake news.” Chanwoo dismissed. It was like the Corona virus shit, where you hear people were dropping like flies in China and rumours started circulating that the dead had started resurrecting, biting people and turning them into zombies. “Someone has a serious Stephen King obsession about people being turned into zombies and crap like that. It’s just fodder for the masses.” He added, draining the water in a gulp.

“They evacuated Busan last weekend. Some said the President’s press conference was held in the bunker.” Donghyuk whispered conspiratorially. 

“Will the both of you cut this zombie crap? It might as well be the end of the world, if we can't find our band a lead guitarist!” Junhoe was close to being frustrated once again and no milkshake was going to change that.

Donghyuk had known him since high school and Junhoe had started their band on a whim one Saturday afternoon when they had nothing to do. They mostly started out playing The White Stripes, because Junhoe could already play guitar and Donghyuk was iffy on the drums. The thing was, Junhoe excelled in his studies, but he loved singing and playing guitars way too much that even his parents had to admit he had a dearth of talents in music. He was so good, in fact, that his parents even bought the first few instruments they had on the basis that he continued scoring As on all his subjects.

They sharpened their skills pretty much every Saturday afternoon, until Donghyuk met Chanwoo whose family attended the same church as his family. Chanwoo had played cymbals for the church’s band and he was the only one who could keep to the beat. He was apparently learning to play the drums, because his dad was a Keith Moon enthusiast and he had gotten them a legit Zildjian drum set after making them promise to learn some of The Who’s discography.

It was, of course, Junhoe’s voice that got them their first gig. They even had a lead guitarist back then, a pretty boy next door to Chanwoo’s house, Kim Jinhwan. Jinhwan was small in stature, but he played like a giant. His parents were against him playing for a ‘rock band’ though. Last summer, they shifted to another state and The Waxed Pistons found themselves without a lead guitarist. For awhile, Junhoe took over the role, but it was draining, singing and playing at the same time.

Donghyuk’s eyes lighted up quite suddenly. He slapped Junhoe on the shoulder as if he had a sudden revelation and Junhoe yelped in pain.

“Bitch! Why didn’t I think of this earlier on?!” Donghyuk was interjecting now. “You remember my roommate? Bobby?”

Junhoe did not need to remember too long. The encounter was practically branded into his memory. He had been to Donghyuk’s dorm before and had met Bobby Kim. It was hard to forget someone like that. When Junhoe dropped by Donghyuk’s room to collect some CDs from Bobby less than a month ago, he had not expected someone so casually attractive to answer the door. Looking like he just woke up from a nap, Bobby Kim exuded the kind of laid-back rocker vibe Junhoe could only aspire to become. He held a Gibson by the neck which he had been strumming at before Junhoe's arrival had interrupted him. It had been some Guns ’N’ Roses ballad. Junhoe had heard it from outside the door. November Rain? Or Don’t Cry? So, Junhoe knew he could play. Junhoe remember feeling Bobby’s eyes on his back, as he scanned Donghyuk’s desk for the CDs he wanted.

“So…you’re in Donghyuk’s band?” He asked, his throaty voice sounded languid, the voice which sang the kind of song you would fuck a girl with. Junhoe wondered if he should correct him and say that Donghyuk was _IN_ his band and not the other way around but thought that would sound condescending.

“Yeah.” Junhoe answered, not daring to turn and look. Bobby had already returned to his natural state which apparently, was leaning against the wall on his bed, legs sprawled open and the guitar propped between his thighs which looked pretty muscular in the shorts he was wearing. It took all of Junhoe’s willpower not to continue looking.

“What’s your poison?” He had asked and then proceeded to strum Poison’s Every Rose Has Its Thorns under his fingers. It was beautiful.

“Uhm, punk rock? The Clash, Sex Pistols, Ramones.” Junhoe hummed the song Bobby was strumming under his breath, fiddling with the messy tufts of his blond hair which Bobby thought made him looked absolutely fuckable. 

“You know this song, though, Rocker Boy? Sing.” Bobby had demanded quite spontaneously. “I’ll play.” Junhoe turned to face him, leaning against Donghyuk’s desk and singing the line.

E _very rose has its thorns/Just like every night has its dawns_

_Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad songs/ Every rose has its thorns_

Bobby had grinned and Junhoe never thought one little grin could actually light up his whole world, but it did. He grabbed the CDs, said something about being late for his class and scooted out of there before his heart began throbbing out of his chest. He never told Donghyuk about it and Bobby probably never talked to Donghyuk about it either, because Donghyuk never mentioned anything to him after.

“Uhm…no. I don’t think so.” Junhoe was adamantly saying now.

“What do you mean, no?” Donghyuk insisted. “He’s a good lead guitarist. He’s done gigs for some locals who needed guitarists at festivals. He might be a bit too big for our group, but come on, we can put him up to speed with our track list, I’m pretty sure he can catch up to it. I’ll text him, or better yet, lemme call him.” Donghyuk had walked away before Junhoe could stop him. Junhoe sucked on his milkshake hard. So hard he groaned, because it was giving him a brain freeze.

“Wow, Koo Junhoe, I’ve never seen the veins in your brain pop out like that, unless you’re really belting it out. You must really have it in for Donghyuk’s room mate, huh?” Chanwoo observed quietly and that was the one thing Junhoe hated about the lumbering drummer. He was always sticking his business where it was never needed. Junhoe glared at him, biting back the pain he was already feeling from that sudden shot of coldness from his beverage. Donghyuk came back, the dimples by his lips, deep and filled with a happiness Junhoe had not expected.

“ _Hyung_ said yes! He doesn’t have any gigs for the next few months so he could spare us the time.” Donghyuk’s enthusiasm was more than enough to make up for the lack of the same from his bandmates. While it was Chanwoo’s natural state not to be too bothered by sudden changes in the development of the band, Junhoe was mulling over the chances of Bobby backing out on them. “It was strange though.” Donghyuk was saying almost to himself.

“What was strange, weirdo?” Chanwoo asked, gazing at Donghyuk closely.

“Well, he refused me at first. He said he didn’t want to play for a small-time band like us. But then after awhile he agreed, but it’s what he said before he agreed that made it strange.” Donghyuk pondered. Junhoe was already feeling riled at the mere mention of his group being a ‘ _small-time band_ ’. Maybe, Mr ‘High and Mighty’ might want to find himself in a better position. The gutter, perhaps, Junhoe thought wryly.

“Ya~Kim Donghyuk, what is this? Fucking Double Jeopardy? Just tell us already what he said!” Chanwoo huffed impatiently.

“He asked me if Rocker Boy was still doing the singing. He said if Junhoe was the one singing, he would do it. We don’t even need to pay him.” Donghyuk stated. Junhoe blinked his eyes, his anger at having his band called small-time immediately dissipating hearing Donghyuk’s statement.

“He, what?” Junhoe asked, swallowing the constriction in his throat.

“Did you sing for him when you dropped by my dorm room that day?” Donghyuk asked, looking puzzled.

“Maybe a little.” Junhoe whispered, pretending to suck on his drink. He knew Chanwoo was watching him closely and the last thing he wanted was for Donghyuk to pick up on anything they both could tease him with.

“Well, that was our lifesaver. Bobby- _hyung_ is one of the best. We are lucky to have him on the band. Even if it’s temporary.” Donghyuk sounded relieved and Junhoe told them it was time to get back to practice.

“Do I have to call him _hyung_ too?” Chanwoo was asking and Donghyuk laughed, pounding the tall drummer on his back. Donghyuk then said, Bobby was the type, who was not too particular about rank. The weekends were upon them anyway and Donghyuk had said Bobby would be joining them for practice next week.

~~~~~

Junhoe had never felt this nervous in front of an audience. He was a born performer. He lived to stand before the stage and provide entertainment. His fans, a very small group of them, had always dubbed him ‘The Charismatic’ because that was what he exuded whenever he took over the mic. Today, he only had an audience of one, but it was the one who made him the most nervous. Even when his parents came down to support him, he was never this anxious. Bobby Kim was sitting before them. Sitting was not even the word. At rest, the man seem to only sprawl wherever he rested his ass on; legs constantly stretched open, arms folded across the chest, eyes narrowed, flashing that trademarked, shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Take it from the top again, Rocker Boy.” It was almost uncanny how the hierarchy had been established from the moment he strutted in. He obviously did not know that Junhoe was the leader of the band. He dubbed Chanwoo, Drummer Boy and the idiot actually had gazed at him with an awestruck look in his puppy dog eyes Junhoe had never seen him display before. He was all chummy with Donghyuk, calling him Dirty Kid here and there, always gripping Donghyuk’s head and administering knuckle sandwiches on top of the boy’s head. He had given Junhoe a piece of paper, lyrics to a Nirvana song, which he wanted to hear Junhoe sing.

_And if you fool yourself/You will make him happy_

_He’ll keep you in a jar/And you’ll think you’re happy_

_He’ll cover you with grass/And you’ll think you’re happy now_

_He’ll give you breathing holes/Then you will seem happy_

_You’ll wallow in the shit/Then you’ll think you’re happy now_

Junhoe let the last note linger; breathy, raspy and draggy, eyes closed, feeling the words. Donghyuk was first to clap, followed closely by Chanwoo.

“Junhoe-ya,” Chanwoo was saying. “You’ve never sang with so much feeling before.” Junhoe smiled and opened his eyes. His gaze settled on Bobby Kim and the smile faltered slightly. The way the man was looking at him was quite unnerving. Gone was the sparkle in his eyes. There was only dark intensity in them. No one had ever looked at Junhoe that way, not even his so-called fans, who were mostly girls.

“ _Hyung_ , wasn’t that good?” Donghyuk was asking Bobby now, who had sauntered over to where Junhoe was standing. Bobby circled Junhoe, so close, Junhoe could feel his warm breath against his neck. Junhoe stood rooted to the spot. He felt like a prey being sized down by its predator.

“It’d be better once I start taking up the slack in lead.” Bobby whispered, grabbing his Gibson, which he had placed on a stand, just near where Junhoe had been standing. Sometimes, when things fall into place, one could almost hear the cosmic click in one’s head. The moment Bobby plugged in his guitar and stood up, flanking Junhoe on the right, the four of them could almost hear the universe lumbering its way back into place. Everything was good and anything that was going to turn to shit, would not really matter as long as they were together. “I think we need a name change though.” Bobby muttered as he tuned his guitar. He was speaking whilst biting his pick between his teeth so at first, no one else heard him but Junhoe.

“A name change? _Kapjaegi_?” Junhoe turned sideways, gazing at him, wondering why he was not feeling threatened by this at all.

“The Waxed Pistons just doesn’t sound right.” Bobby was saying, plucking his pick against the strings now, finding the right tune. He strummed something Santana-esque, all curls and licks which impressed Donghyuk and Chanwoo so much they exclaimed their wonder in unison. Junhoe grinned and rested his hands at the top of the mic, a habit which caused a high-pitched audio feedback to echo through the room. They all winced. Bobby chortled.

“What’s so funny?” Junhoe asked.

“It’s funny, but Feedback Whine?” Bobby shared. Junhoe glanced over at Donghyuk, who had a knowing grin on his face, which was all dimpled and crescent eyes. Junhoe turned to Chanwoo, who played the snare in a suspenseful drumroll.

“Feedback Whine sounds just about right.” Junhoe agreed unanimously. Bobby wondered if a smile could be stored in a tiny bottle pendant and then worn around the neck like a tribute.

A week later and it was the day of the auditions. There were surprisingly very little competition. The boys thought they had come in late but apparently, only five groups had attended and they were the last entry for the day. Most of the students had headed back home after news of riots broke out upstate. People were clamouring, many angry at the government for whitewashing the news. Things were still pretty calm where they were. Or so they thought. Bobby had brought two guitar cases.

“I can’t decide which one I’m gonna use, so I brought both.” He shrugged, trying to explain, which did not really matter as it turns out. Chanwoo was peering out the small window, which looked out to the hallway as the rest were getting ready tuning their guitars.

“Mmm, guys…” Chanwoo was saying now, locking the door quite suddenly. "I don’t think there’s going to be an audition today." They all turned to look at him expectantly. His eyes were round as saucers, almost filling up his whole face, which had suddenly turned as pale as the moon. “I just saw the director eating the sound guy’s face.” Chanwoo was saying now, pointing outside in a daze. A high-pitched scream rang from the quadrangle below. Donghyuk ran towards the window, mouth agape as he saw a number of students fleeing from the campus. They were followed closely by a battery of human-like creatures.

“Are those…” Donghyuk began. Bobby had joined him, suddenly galvanized into action.

“Zombies.” Bobby muttered. “I suggest we start closing the windows.” Junhoe had took one glance out of the window and had joined Chanwoo in battening up the door with the tables and chairs that was in the room.

“Is this really happening?” Chanwoo muttered even as screams filtered in from outside. The sounds of skin tearing, bones crunching in between the bloodcurdling screams coming from beyond the door, was surreal.

“Go sit down, Chanuya. I’ll take care of this.” Junhoe whispered gently.

The lights began to flicker overhead and a few seconds later, the room went dark. Someone or something was trying to push its way in. Donghyuk had turned on the lights of his mobile, letting it scour the room, finding Junhoe’s face, pale and riddled with perspiration. He was pushing the furniture back, trying to prevent whatever was trying to break through access. Bobby was helping out beside him, leaning against the pile of furniture that was currently shored up against the door quite admirably. Chanwoo was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, eyes closed. Donghyuk glanced at his phone, cursing when he realised that while the campus provided free wi-fi, the signal was low during study hours. A beep went off on his notification though.

‘ **Breaking News** **: It has been confirmed that Daegu has been hit with the Monster Virus, a mutagen of the CV0202, causing its sufferers to lose normal brain functions and become rabid. Citizens are advised to stay indoors. The military has deployed its soldiers to enforce the area, anyone still alive and well, are advised to go to the rooftop with some food supplies as the military will sent choppers to provide rescue and medical aid, if needed.** ’

Donghyuk read the message aloud. His voice was haggard and Junhoe knew it was the onset of his asthma.

“Ya~Kim Donghyuk, are you alright?” Bobby was asking.

“Where’s your inhaler?” Junhoe asked. The pushing behind him had stopped and there was only silence now.

“Out-out…side. Left…my bag…by the door.” Donghyuk’s voice had gone reed-thin, his words coming out in forced staccatos. Bobby muttered a curse. Chanwoo was worried enough to overcome his shock and stood beside Donghyuk, his face now filled with concern.

“Junhoe, what the fuck do you think you are doing?” Chanwoo was saying now. Junhoe was throwing the furniture aside now, going warily for the door handle. Bobby gripped his wrist tightly, stopping him.

“Rocker Boy, are you sure about this?” Bobby intoned. Junhoe gazed at him. That same intense stare. There was something else in those dark orbs. Something equivalent to admiration?

“I’m not.” Junhoe stated with uncertainty, “But I’m not going to let anyone in my band die on me.” He added and opened the door warily. It was pitch black outside and a deathly silence which was creepy. There were sparks of lights from the ceiling. Shadows in the dark, milling. It was enough for Junhoe to see the outline of Donghyuk’s bag. Why it was outside was beyond Junhoe’s comprehension, but it was so typical of Donghyuk.

Whenever he was nervous, Donghyuk often forgot where he put his things; mobile, books, bag, inhaler. Junhoe made a lunge for the bag. A hand shot out to grab his wrist. It was blue-black, engorged and swollen. A face swam out from the darkness. It was one of the lecturers, Professor Jukjin, who was probably in charge of today’s audition, except his face was the same pallor as his arms, his brain had been bashed in or bitten into. His teeth was gnashing, making an attempt to bite Junhoe. A big black boot descended from behind Junhoe smashing right into the Professor’s face throwing him back into the darkness.

Someone pulled Junhoe into the room once more, bag and all. Then Bobby was there to close the door, as a surge of eerie inhuman groans emerged from the dark, telling him that the professor had not been the only creature waiting in that bleak ocean of nothingness. Junhoe’s eyes was wide with fear and then Chanwoo was there helping Bobby to rearrange the furniture once more. They did a better job at it this time, pushing the legs of the chairs into the door handles so that the door barely shifted forward.

“His inhaler!” Chanwoo was yelling now as he and Bobby began pushing the rest of the tables and chairs to form a fortress behind their last line of defence. Junhoe was a mad scramble of arms and feet as he struggled with the zipper on Donghyuk’s bag. Donghyuk’s wheezing had reached a level that was a cause for panic. Junhoe emptied the contents on the floor and grabbed the phone from Donghyuk, shining the light to the things he scattered on the floor. A notebook, a bottle of water and there! Junhoe grabbed the blue-grey plastic body of the inhaler and passed it immediately to Donghyuk in the semi-darkness. One puff, a pause of fifteen seconds and another puff. Donghyuk’s breath was slowly becoming steady once again.

“You alright?” Junhoe asked after awhile. The backup generator finally hummed tolife and the lights came back on. The boys blinked at the sudden onslaught of brightness.

“Are we fucked?” Chanwoo asked the inevitable.

“You know what they say.” Bobby mused. “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.” He was flashing that shit-eating grin.

~~~~~

They unanimously decided to stay in the room that night, before trying to make it to the roof tomorrow morning. The sky had darkened outside, but under the streetlights, they could see the lifeless meandering around the campus grounds, shoulders drooping, weaving in and out amongst each other. There were some survivors just like them already milling on the roof of the adjacent building and maybe two or three at the top of the campus library. It was set to be a cold night, because that was how it was during summers like these in Daegu.

Bobby ordered the rest to sleep, promising that he would keep watch over the doorway while they rested. Chanwoo did a recon of food supplies and fresh water. Thankfully, their bags all had bottled water and some snacks because they were so used to audition waiting time. Junhoe had taken out the three guitars they had and used two of the bags to cover Donghyuk and Chanwoo as they slept. Then he got a bottle of water and a pack of beef jerky before settling beside Bobby, who was leaning against the chairs, sprawled once more. Junhoe opened the pack of jerky and offered one to Bobby which he took quietly. The silence was somewhat comforting. They took turns to sip the water.

“So much for nailing the audition, huh?” Bobby had muttered. “I was so looking forward to playing for you.” He added with a guttural chuckle.

“For me?” Junhoe whispered, tilting his head to the side, gazing at Bobby candidly. Bobby did not return his gaze, pretending to pick the lint from the tattered denims he was wearing. Junhoe smiled when Bobby did not answer. “Anyway, thanks for saving my life.” Junhoe contended.

“You saved Donghyuk’s life. That was extremely…heroic of you.” Bobby countered. The silence again. “Do you like Donghyuk that much?” Bobby asked. His rasp was so soft, Junhoe would not have heard it if was not for the silence.

“He’s been my best friend since high school. Like, if I had a younger brother, I’d probably treat him the way I treat Donghyuk.” Junhoe admitted ruefully, not sure if this was Bobby being jealous.

“Same. I mean he’s annoying and all…” Bobby started.

“…But you can’t help wanting to look out for him.” Junhoe ended the statement. Their eyes finally met. Always that fiery intensity and what Junhoe now recognised as desire.

“I wish I could kiss you.” Bobby whispered, swallowing the constriction in his throat, ”I mean, if you were…into that kind of thing.”

_For you_ , he had said. For him. Junhoe was sure of it now. Ordinarily, only two occasions calls for this kind of certainty. Impending doom or a zombie apocalypse, which of course, amounted to one and the same, judging by current circumstance. Junhoe would have looked away if things had been different; would laugh it off and said he was into girls, if they had not spent most of the day having to fight for their lives in order to survive. This was not the time to hide behind the unpredictable wiles of youthful pride.

“I wish you would, but not in front of them.” Junhoe responded, deriving pleasure from the way Bobby’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at this brazen statement. They had kept two out of the four lights in the room on, so that the side where they had stacked the chairs were plunged in a dim darkness while the side facing the windows where the other two slept, were bathed in light.

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a fucking damn.” Bobby conjectured, sidling over to Junhoe. His hand came up to tilt Junhoe’s head towards his and they kissed. _Luscious_. Junhoe’s lips were luscious beyond comprehension. Bobby slipped his tongue into the warmth, tasting the smoky aftertaste of the beef jerky, going further in where the essence of Junhoe’s mouth was, stealing exhales and sharing inhales. Bobby released him, mouth embalmed with the taste of Junhoe, imprinted like a song he had just written, a song which had no ending. “If we get out of this alive, I am going to fuck you so bad, all you are going to sing for the next few days would be my name.” Bobby promised.

“Wow Bobby Kim, all before a dinner date? What do you take me for? A slut?” Junhoe chortled. Chanwoo shifted in his sleep and they both remained quiet. Chanwoo started snoring moments later.

“How about I serenade you with a song?” Bobby suggested, taking his acoustic guitar and strumming it softly. 

“Call.” Junhoe quickly agreed.

_Shed a tear cos I’m missing you/I’m still alright to smile_

_Girl, I think about you every day now/Sometimes_

_I get so tensed/But I can’t speed up the time_

_If I can’t have you right now/I’ll wait here_

It was a Guns’ ’N’ Roses’ song. Patience and Junhoe joined him in the chorus,

_Said woman take it slow/And things will be just fine_

_You and me could use a little patience_

_Said woman take it slow/And things will be just fine_

_All we need is just a little patience_

Bobby curled his fingers over the riffs. Their voices, in breathy, soft tones seem was somewhat comforting.

"You think we’ll survive this, Rocker Boy?” Bobby drawled, putting the guitar aside, turning to Junhoe. They were closer now, noses caressing, lips barely touching and their breaths melding in that stoic silence.

“We better. You owe me a dinner date and I intend to give you that solo concert you requested.” Junhoe whispered. “But first, we need to figure out how to get to the roof from this little prison of ours here.” This was the moment Bobby realised who the real leader of the band was. The man might be all kinds of charming and charismatic, but Koo Junhoe’s brain went beyond the desires of rock superstardom or being adored by the masses. In that statement alone, Bobby knew immediately that his desire to be an artiste was sincere, a way for him to offer comfort to people. That was what Bobby had to figure out the first time he opened the door and let Junhoe into his life.

Bobby was not the type to involve his heart in anything more strenuous than learning the solo to a rock masterpiece. Junhoe was beyond anything beautiful he had ever seen. He had sensed the undercurrent of nervousness, quick to pick up that Junhoe found him attractive as he did him. What surprised him was the fact that Junhoe wanted to remain small-time when he could have gone mainstream, have girls tripping themselves wanting to suck his dick and held record companies by their necks trying to sell his brand. There was a reason for it and Bobby knew it had more to do with his loyalties to the band he created than anything else. Only the good ones started that way. The ones that ran for the glory would have found himself a band that already had skilled musicians waiting to play his voice.

And oh! What a voice it is!

It was enough to convince Bobby to get himself involved. He knew the band had no lead guitarist, it was all Donghyuk ever talked about whenever he came back from practice. He waited. Patience. It was all he could afford and it always paid off. He was glad it did. Now his eyes fell on this monolith’s back as he stood up and walked towards the window. Bobby never thought someday that he would fall for hero material. Junhoe opened one of the windows and the cold breeze blew in. It woke Donghyuk up.

“About time, Dirty Kid. Cowboys need rest too, you know.” Bobby sauntered over, kicking one of Donghyuk’s feet. “You okay. Do you need to sleep some more?”

“Nuh-uh,” Donghyuk groaned, glancing back at Junhoe, who had climbed on the window sill, his long legs was all Donghyuk could see. Bobby licked his lips at the sight of it. “What are you doing, Juneya?” Donghyuk asked. Junhoe came down moments later, clapping the dust from off his hands.

“It’s two floors up to the roof.” Junhoe surmised. “There’s the vent or we make a run down the hallway when the sun comes up.” He added.

“Can’t we just climb the windows?” Donghyuk asked. Junhoe shrugged.

“Possible. But I have a better idea.” Junhoe pondered.

“Sleep first, Rocker Boy. We’ll do the math at first light.” Bobby drawled, turning his attentions to Chanwoo.

“Ya~Bobby Kim. If you’re planning to date me, you need to start calling me by my real name.” Junhoe muttered, patting Chanwoo on his head as the boy stood up to join Donghyuk against the chairs.

“I need to pee!” Chanwoo was whining. Bobby pointed to the bin he had pushed all the way to a corner of the room.

“You are dating Junhoe? _Jjinjarro_?” Donghyuk was asking. Bobby waved his hand at Donghyuk as if to deflect any more questions, pulling Junhoe to lie down beside him on the hardwood floor. Chanwoo returned and snickered, stopping immediately when Bobby glared at him in fair warning. 

“Watch the door, motherfuckers. You are our first line of defence. You let them breach, they’ll be eating your brains before ours.” Bobby reminded them, inhaling Junhoe’s scent. “Do you have to look so fucking good even when you are sleeping, Junhoe?” Bobby whispered into his ear, letting that name roll off his tongue as if he could swallow each syllable and barely even begin to breathe. 

“Shut up and sleep, Bobby Kim.” Junhoe deadpanned, shutting his eyes, his mind working double time even as he said so.

~~~~~

One of the rooms had been full of them, they kept knocking onto the window pane, scratching and pressing their bloated faces against the glass trying to get to Chanwoo’s legs, which had dangled so temptingly for the longest time, as Junhoe pulled Donghyuk, followed by Bobby, leaving Chanwoo last, by virtue of his limber legs. Junhoe knew they had the sun to contend with as the day progressed so he had galvanised them at dawn. Thankfully, the campus had an eco-project on the rooftop of the building last year and there was a veritable green haven up there.

There were four shelters; one housing a hydro-garden, an actual nursery complete with benches arranged in rows into a makeshift auditorium, complete with a small platform stage. The third shelter was a shack filled with gardening tools and some sleeping bags. The last was a wooden verandah which provided cool shade.

“What is this? Did we hit the motherlode of The Walking Dead utopia?” Chanwoo cried as he planted himself onto the platform, face first. Donghyuk shook his head at the drummer.

“There’s a breach. We need to shut it down.” Bobby nodded at the lifeless one sauntering towards them. Junhoe, who had disappeared into the shack had reappeared brandishing a sledgehammer he found inside. He swung it at the slowly advancing creature. It made a sound as if someone had dropped the world’s biggest pumpkin to the floor.

“Rest later, bitches! We have to fortify the perimeter!” Junhoe yelled, walking towards where the entrance was as he sighted four more stumbling through the open door of the rooftop access.

“Has he always been this majestic?” Bobby asked in an amazement he could barely concealed. Under the sun, with his golden hair shining, it was like watching Thor come to life. The sledgehammer made it even more believable. Donghyuk chuckled. Bobby had insisted that each of them slung the guitars over their backs when they did their arduous climb up the roof and now they had to unsheathed the instruments to find themselves proper weapons in order to fend off this army of the living dead.

“Donghyuk! Help me!” Chanwoo was shouting. One of them had somehow managed to pin Chanwoo as he recovered from his exertions up the roof and he was doing all he can to prevent the creature from biting off his head. Donghyuk and Bobby walked into the shack; Bobby found an ax and Donghyuk came out moments later, plunging a screwdriver into the skull of the one who had been holding Chanwoo hostage.

“Sorry, Janitor- _ahjussi_.” Donghyuk whispered regretfully as Chanwoo winced at the amount of dead brain matter splattered onto his face and his favourite Pink Floyd shirt. Donghyuk shrugged and looked up to continue surveillance.

"Ugh." Chanwoo groaned.

Meantime, Junhoe and Bobby made short work of the three who had managed to somehow passed the doorway. Junhoe blew the head off one with the business end of the sledgehammer and Bobby cut the legs of two with the swing of his ax. They keeled to the ground, their upper bodies writhing about haplessly. There were more milling about the staircase landing. Bobby’s resounding kick to the chest of the one at the top triggered a domino of the undead falling all over themselves. He shut the door even as Chanwoo came over, bearing lumber, nails and a small hammer. He looked harried from his close shave, but was determined to survive this massive fuckery.

“Will this do?” He asked. Bobby nodded and Chanwoo began placing the lumber over the door, nailing across and at each end of the doorframe.

“For now, yes.” Junhoe muttered. Donghyuk had ran over to assist, but Junhoe stopped him, waving to the slew of undead bodies scattered across the rooftop now. “Tip them over the building. We cannot have them rotting on the rooftop." Junhoe instructed. Donghyuk nodded, wincing as he felt something tugging at the hem of his jeans. It was the arm from the one Bobby had managed to dismember along his way to the rooftop entrance.

“Eeew. I hate these kinds of things.” Donghyuk professed primly even as he got to the nitty gritty of his assigned task.

By evening, they had stacked some of the benches against the door, chopping one to make a small fire near the sheltered platform. There were three sleeping bags, Chanwoo lined them up on the platform. Donghyuk managed to find a few cans of tuna, some crackers and two cartons of distilled bottled water stored in the shack's emergency box. There were flares in the first aid kit. Junhoe released one into the night, earning them resounding cheers from the surrounding rooftop denizens.

Surprisingly, Bobby had set up his Gibson into the speaker he had carried with him. Chanwoo, who had spent the better part of the day tinkering in the shack had found a loudspeaker. He passed this over to Junhoe, who gazed at him in puzzlement.

“Normally, I would love to serenade everyone with my power vocals, but I’m about to partake a luxurious dinner of tuna and crackers with my distinguished date here, who saved my life, so I am expecting to be entertained.” Chanwoo duly informed him, offering an arm to Donghyuk, who fluttered his lashes and wrapped his arm into Chanwoo’s quite exaggeratedly before sashaying languidly onto the platform where the sleeping bags were.

“I’m not going to sing.” Junhoe declared incredulously.

“Sing.” Bobby urged, tuning his guitar. “Do ‘Seven Nation Army’. Everybody could use some music right now to lift their spirits up.” Bobby added. Junhoe gazed at Bobby in disbelief.

“What if my singing puts them in a frenzy?” Junhoe sounded scared, which was unlike him.

“Consider it a prelude to our deaths then.” Bobby bantered, cranking the volume of his speakers, the whine coming off it, making the undead stopped in their tracks. Junhoe surveyed the area with weary eyes. When the rooftop survivors, most of whom had witnessed the four of them making their way to the roof half of the morning with courage that was admirable, saw Junhoe holding up the loudspeaker, they cheered. Bobby started the bass-like riff.

“Name change, bitches.” Junhoe looked back at his band members proudly. “The Rocking Dead.” Bobby grinned, nodding his head in approval. Donghyuk and Chanwoo cheered in agreement as Junhoe brought up the speaker to his mouth.

_I’m gonna fight ‘em all/A seven nation army couldn’t hold me back_

_They’re gonna rip it off/Taking their time right behind my back_

_And I’m talking to myself at night/Because I can’t forget_

_Back and forth through my mind/Behind a cigarette_

_And the message coming from my eyes/Says leave it alone_

_Don’t want to hear about it/Every single one’s got a story to tell_

_Everyone knows about it/From the Queen of England_

_To the hounds of hell_

_And if I catch it coming back my way/I’m gonna serve it to you_

_And that ain’t what you want to hear/But that’s what I’ll do_

_And the feeling coming from my bones/Says find a home_

Junhoe let Bobby rip through with the solo riff, eyes widened in surprise as the undead seem beaten onto the ground, clawing at their ears at the sound of the high-pitched, bass sound. Junhoecalled for Chanwoo and Donghyuk to come over and see what was happening. The rooftop survivors cheered as well at the sight of the undead, spasming and writhing on the ground in pain, fingers gripping at their skull.

“Holy mackerel!” Donghyuk gasped as Bobby continued flicking his fingers across the strings. “Hyung, keep going! Fuck, it’s like he’s the Pied Piper of Hamelin or some shit like that!” Donghyuk celebrated.

~~~~~

_One week later…_

“Daegu U! Are you ready to roll with The Rocking Dead?!” The emcee shouted from the front of the curtained stage. In the aftermath of what the press had termed a ‘massive zombie wipeout’, where helicopters were deployed bearing speakers playing The Rocking Dead’s version of The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army. Junhoe’s voice; growling the lyrics, acted as the preliminary freezing of the undead in their dazed stupor, before Bobby’s riff came in, literally tearing through the mulch of their rotten cerebrum, causing it to practically detonate itself. One by one, they fall like flies being napalmed with pesticide.

_Apparently, it was not over until Junhoe sang and Bobby played._

An anticipated roar filled the crowd. Outside the dressing room, drummer Jung Chanwoo stood guard with bassist Kim Donghyuk. Both bit their lips at the sound of the crowd. It was enough to drown out the screams coming from behind the door of the dressing room. Inside, Junhoe was spread across the couch, naked and smooth as the day he was born, as Bobby laid outstretched, atop him, his tanned butt clenching and unclenching as he continued reaming into the tightness of Junhoe’s lush passage.

“Fuck me harder! What are you!? A pussy!” Junhoe was urging now as Bobby continued his unstoppable thrusts quite unforgivingly, into him. Bobby was not even timing the strokes, not caring that Junhoe’s own spent seed, was spread across their tightly wound torsos and that Junhoe’s nails had raked across his taut, muscular back. “Fuck me, Bobby Kim!” Junhoe yelled. Bobby gripped one of those smooth white thighs draped over the back of the couch with his hands, grinding his turgid cock in and around, swirling deliciously into that welcoming entrance. Junhoe blowing pockets of hot air, through lips swollen with rough kisses was a picture Bobby carved into his mind.

They were aware that Donghyuk and Chanwoo were standing guard nervously outside the door.

They were aware that more than five thousand students had converged around the campus where a grand stage had been set for their inaugural concert after being hailed as the band that saved the world.

They were aware that they had been hailed as heroes and thrown into the limelight quite suddenly into a maelstrom of screaming, adoring fans.

They were mostly aware that, all they wanted since they were rescued a week ago, was to fuck each other's brain out so hard that both could barely walk, the first few days of returning back to the strangeness of this brand new normalcy.

Donghyuk had walked in to Junhoe being impaled against the wall by a very naked and sweaty Bobby, head thrown back in carnal ecstasy, their haggard breaths filling the dorm. Donghyuk had not heard all the grunts and groans, because he had the headphones on. He had walked in, burned his eyes with the vision and then had walked out, crashing at Chanwoo’s dorm, discussing the possibility of becoming room mates’ in the near future, because obviously, Junhoe and Bobby had a very passionate thing going and the fire had barely died down, even now that they were about to debut to the world.

Bobby came resoundingly into Junhoe, cushioned by the collective roaring of their fans from behind closed doors, and thought if there was anything more melodic than Junhoe screaming his name in a litany of pleasures, it was Junhoe singing to the riff he concocted on his guitar.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Songs featured in this fic;
> 
> 1) Champagne Supernova, Oasis  
> 2) Every Rose Has It's Thorn, Poison  
> 3) Sappy, Nirvana  
> 4) Patience, Guns' 'N' Roses'  
> 5) Seven Nation Army, The White Stripes
> 
> For those about to rock, we salute you, bitches!


End file.
